Stupid Third Day
by Spinofflady
Summary: Periods are awful. Astrid knows that better than anyone. Things are going pretty terribly for her, or at least until Hiccup shows up. Then things start going terribly for him. Between cramps, moodswings and PMS, Astrid is a miserable person to deal with...and Hiccup gets to deal with every bit of it.


Stupid Third Day

Mother Nature _hated_ Astrid. Despised her.

Granted, Mother Nature gives all women grief a few days out of the month, but she particularly had it out for the Hofferson girl.

Ever since the very beginning, Astrid's monthly cycle had been consistent—consistently miserable. There was no consistency in the time between periods, but during, oh, there were plenty of consistencies. The first day always sneaked up on her. The second was heavy and normally bled through anything she used. And the third day in was always the worst.

Today was the third day.

Astrid lay in a miserable ball on her bed, hugging her cramping stomach in the hopes to alleviate some pain. It didn't work—not that she'd expected it to. Nothing helped third day cramps. Those cramps made everything hurt. _Everything._

She shifted to her left side, wincing as the movement hurt her swollen, tender breasts. Stupid womanhood. Stupid Mother Nature. Stupid everything.

She seriously wanted to smash something. She didn't care what it was, she just wanted to smash it. She also wanted to sob. For hours. And for no reason. If emotions could be smashed, she'd definitely smash them. Then sob.

Astrid groaned as the abdominal pain increased. She was honestly surprised that it _could_ increase at this point. Stupid cramps.

Heather _never_ had cramps. Heather was so incredibly lucky it wasn't even funny. She knew the exact _day_ her period would start, and it would be done in four days, no spotting afterwards. No cramps. No mood-swings. No inconvenience.

Heather had it just great.

Astrid had it just awful.

But this one was by far the worst day out of all of them. Her monster cramps could usually be tamed by the use of a hot water skin, but this time, Astrid had forgotten it on Berk. She had brought it with her the last time she visited her parents, and when she left, the skin stayed on her dresser. She didn't think she'd need it, and decided not to go back for it.

Worst. Decision. Ever.

Oh, how she wanted the relief of warmth! She wished she was at home, not just so she could have the water skin, but so her mother could offer her advice and comfort, so Astrid could whine and complain (which she really, really wanted to do) and so she could smash something.

Stupid emotions. They were all jostling around in her head, fighting to take control of her but were really only succeeding in giving her a headache. Everything ached. Her stomach and lower back were by far the worst, but her legs and shoulders were almost as achy.

She bit her lip and another wave of pain hit her in full force, a few unwanted tears slipping down her cheeks. She hated this feeling, this…weakness; this one feminine flaw. How could she be a great warrior if she couldn't get out of bed for a whole day just because she had a stomach ache? What brave Viking cried for no apparent reason? She could usually handle pain, but there was something about these stupid cramps that left her sobbing.

Stupid Freya. Astrid was tempted to swear audibly at the goddess of fertility for cursing her like this, but decided she couldn't afford to get punished any further.

Why couldn't she be a boy? Boys didn't have to deal with any of this—no cramps, no emotional roller coasters, nothing. Boys were lucky. Changing voices were nothing compared to what girls got forced into at puberty. Stupid puberty.

She rolled over again, immediately regretting it. _"Movement helps cramps,"_ her mother had said. _Yeah right,_ Astrid inwardly moaned. _It just kills you first._

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she'd skipped lunch. With cramps like these, she probably wouldn't be able to keep lunch down, but that didn't stop her from feeling hungry.

A few more tears slipped out. She felt awful—swollen and bloated from head to foot, aching, cramping, and nauseas, not to mention she was an emotional wreck. _Ah, yes. Womanhood at its finest,_ she thought bitterly to herself.

A quiet knock at the door drew her out of her misery, and Astrid instinctively pulled a fur around herself to hide her covered, but unbound, chest. "Who is it?" she called softly, frantically glancing around her room for any further evidence of her pathetic state.

"Hiccup," came the response. "Can I come in?"

Astrid desperately wanted to say no. She certainly didn't want him witnessing her pitiful excuse for existence. But she couldn't send him away; he likely just wanted to tell her something and leave. He never hung around her hut longer than he had to, and it was obviously out of respect for her privacy. She loved that about him.

"Yeah," she called back finally, realizing she'd been lost in thought a little too long.

The door creaked open, and Hiccup stepped in, his eyebrows furrowing in concern at the sight of her curled up on her bed. "Hey," he started, taking a few steps in her direction. "I just came to make sure you were alright, since you didn't come to lunch."

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just not feeling so good." She hoped he'd leave it at that. No need to make things awkward.

"Are you sick?" He pressed, walking over to her bed and squatting down to be level with her.

"No, really. I'm fine. Don't worry."

He smirked. "The last time you said you were fine, you had the Scourge of Odin. I'm going to worry whether you like it or not." The smirk grew to a genuine smile. "Come on, tell me what's going on. Maybe I can do something to help you feel better."

"I seriously doubt it. Unless you have direct contact with the gods, there's nothing you can do." What would make her feel better would be to give Freya a good slap for designing women with such a flaw.

"Wow, that bad, huh? How'd you end up in that much trouble?"

"Ask Freya."

"What?"

He clearly thought she was referring to something she did to anger the gods, and just as clearly had no idea what she was alluding to by "not feeling so good." "Never mind," she muttered in response.

"Come on, Astrid, tell me what's going on. You're scaring me." He put a hand on her forehead to feel for a fever. "You aren't normally like this."

Astrid sighed. Maybe if she told him he'd leave. He was going to make it awkward anyway, and she knew he was just worried about her. Maybe he'd even be willing to get her some herb tea. "Fine, if you must know…it's that time of the month, and Freya absolutely hates me." She blushed a little and pursed her lips, dropping her gaze.

"Oh." His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't draw back. (Or run away in horror, for that matter.) "And why does Freya hate you so much?"

Something about the question infuriated her, and Astrid rolled onto her back with a huff. "I don't know," she snarled viciously. "But everything hurts and I forgot my water skin on Berk so that only makes it worse and I can't move because my gut is killing me and I'm bored to death and I want to smash something but I also want to curl up and sob and I really just hate my life right now!"

She grabbed her pillow and squashed it down on her face, blocking herself from Hiccup's view. It took her a moment to realize how harshly she'd snapped at him, and she peaked out from behind the pillow apologetically. "Sorry."

He smiled. "It's okay. What you're describing would make anyone cranky."

"I am not cranky!" she snapped, suddenly furious again.

Hiccup bit his lip to keep from telling her the obvious truth: she was _very_ cranky. He doubted that would help in any case, particularly not this one. "No, of course not," he replied calmly, fighting the sarcasm that desperately wanted to come through in his voice. "I used the wrong word."

Astrid stared at the ceiling, pouting. "No, I'm cranky. I don't know why, I just am."

 _Boy, is she moody,_ Hiccup thought to himself and drawing in a deep breath. He wasn't even sure how to respond. "Uh, I have a water skin if you want to use it." Maybe that would put her in a better mood.

Her eyes lit up. "Really? Yes! Please! Oh, that would be so wonderful!"

 _Thank goodness._ "I'll be right back," he said as soothingly as possible, hurrying out of her hut. He couldn't lie; she was being a bit intolerable. But could he blame her? He honestly didn't have any idea what she was going through, but he could only imagine that it wasn't pleasant.

Hiccup dug around in his hut for a few minutes, searching for the skin, and he finally found it exactly where he thought it wasn't. He filled up a bucket with water, and had Toothless heat it with a plasma blast. With great difficulty, he poured boiling water into the skin, burning his hand a few times.

When he had at last finished, he and Toothless meandered back up the path, Hiccup dreading the idea of dealing with miss moody. He could only be glad she wasn't like this all the time; once a month was enough. Something suddenly clicked in his mind—Astrid had to deal with this a whole week out of _every month_. Heather and Ruffnut had to deal with this _every month._ Every. Single. Month.

That sounded horrible.

Hiccup really had no idea what it would be like, but the small amount he did know made him think he would want to have it one day out of his _lifetime._ If "cramps" could cause Astrid Hofferson to be bedridden, he could only imagine what kind of pain that was. And then the was that glaring fact that women _bled_ for a week straight…he'd always wondered how they didn't die from that.

By then he'd reached Astrid's hut, and he knocked somewhat loudly on her door.

"Unless you're Hiccup, you better not come in!" Astrid shouted from inside.

Hiccup gulped and peaked inside. "It's Hiccup. And I have the skin." He hoped she let him through the door without throwing an axe at his head. She was terrifying when she was on her period.

"Oh," her expression softened. "Come on in then."

He breathed a sigh of relief, but knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. Astrid still had time to kill him. He hastily passed her the hot skin.

She took it from him eagerly, and immediately curled around it, giving a contented "ahh."

"Does that help at all?" He asked nervously, though he was almost positive it had due to her current expression.

"Oh, it feels so good," she smiled, closing her eyes. "You have no idea. Thank you."

Hiccup stood for a minute watching her shift around in search of the best position. "So, should I go, or…?" he asked her awkwardly, praying she wouldn't take it the wrong way and blow up at him.

"I don't see why you'd want to stay," she muttered, opening her eyes. "I'm being such a grump. It's not that I want to…I just feel so miserable that I can't help it." She gazed up at him, her eyes begging him to understand.

He couldn't help but feel sorry for her. There wasn't anything she could do about the situation. "Hey, it's okay," he shrugged. "It's not like you don't have a reason to be grumpy—I get it. Admittedly, I've never been through _exactly_ what you're going through, but I've been stuck in bed with sore muscles, headaches, and an amputated leg. I turn into a grump when I'm miserable, too."

She smiled again. "Thanks for understanding."

He was finally making some progress. "No problem," he smiled back. An idea suddenly came to him, and he was almost sure it was a good one. "Hey, how about a massage?"

Her jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Perfectly. Do you think it would help?"

"Would it help…? Oh, Hiccup, a massage sounds incredible! My lower back is killing me." She rolled over onto the water skin, her back to him.

 _Bingo._ Hiccup inwardly congratulated himself for thinking of such a well received idea. With a soft chuckle, he started to work the area with his fingers, discovering that it was inconceivably tight and stiff. She gave a moan of pleasure when he hit a particularly stiff spot.

"Hiccup, you are literally my favorite person on this planet right now," she mumbled into her pillow contentedly. "Or anywhere. This feels _so_ good."

He chuckled and splayed his fingers into her back, knowing it would help alleviate any pressure.

"Oh," she moaned happily. "I'm dead."

Hiccup paused for a moment. "Uh, Astrid?" he stared awkwardly, "How do you not die?"

She turned to look at him. "What?"

"I mean…how do you not bleed to death?" He was blushing like an idiot, and the question he was asking wasn't helping him seem like anything else.

Astrid stared at him, the seconds passing by at a painfully slow pace. Hiccup dropped his gaze, waiting for her to explode at him.

And suddenly, she did—with laughter.

"Bleed to death?" she gasped between giggles. "What would make you think that?"

"I don't know," he replied sheepishly, his cheeks flaming. "But solid bleeding for a week straight seems like an effective way to kill someone."

Astrid finally started to get a hold of herself. "Well, it's not that much blood. I mean, it sometimes feels that way, but it's not enough to kill me."

Hiccup awkwardly started to rub her back again. "I still don't know how blood loss is normal. Or healthy, for that matter. It just sounds miserable."

"Welcome to my world," Astrid muttered. "This is the definition of misery."

"Should I stop?" Hiccup immediately removed his hands.

"Good Thor, no!" Astrid exclaimed, nearly shouting at him. "You're making it bearable."

Hiccup sighed and continued. "I'm sorry you feel so bad."

"Thanks. Third day is the worst."

"What?"

Astrid shifted around on the skin before answering. "The third day into the week is the worst for me. Worst cramps, headaches, and mood swings out of all nine days."

"Nine days?!"

"Yep. Nine days of misery in all of their glory." She huffed and brought her hands up under her chin. "It's awful."

There was silence for a moment, each lost in their own thought.

"Sometimes I wish I were a girl," Hiccup said suddenly.

Astrid's head spun around to gawk at him, shock written on her face. It took him a moment to catch on. "Oh! It's not like that!" he stuttered self-consciously. "I, uh, I just think it would be nice to know what it's like for girls. Make it easier to understand what they're going through. I mean, I know what it's like to be in pain, or moody, or whatever, but I want to know firsthand so I can really help with stuff like third days."

She rolled over, and he started to wring his hands nervously. A big fat tear slowly rolled down her cheek. "That is literally the sweetest thing I have ever had anyone say to me." She could've kicked herself for crying in front of him, but she'd been holding these reasonless tears back all day.

"Oh, Astrid, don't cry! I- I didn't mean to…why are you crying?" What had he said to upset her?

She looked at him for a moment, then burst into tears. "I don't know!" She sobbed pathetically, covering her face.

Hiccup stared at her in pure shock. Astrid didn't cry, much less cry without reason. "Can I…do you want me to do anything for you?"

She glanced up again, sniffling. "I want a hug," she whimpered, lapsing back into tears.

He nervously gathered her into his arms, trying to appear as though he weren't forcing himself. It honestly made him uncomfortable to see Astrid so overly emotional. But that didn't matter; all he wanted was for her to be a little less miserable.

She finally started to calm, and she sat quietly, leaning against him. "Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me," she whispered finally.

"Hey, don't be sorry." He squeezed her. "Wanna know a secret?"

"What?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"If I must."

"When I was twelve, I skinned my knee on a rock. I was so terrified of the blood that I sobbed for five hours, and my dad finally took me to Gothi so she would give me a sleeping potion. That was probably the epitome of my un-vikingness."

She laughed. "Did you really?"

"No." He paused. "Although I did sob for five hours one time."

She hit his back, but smiled as she leaned back on her pillow. "You're so mean to me."

"I know, I'm so evil." He chuckled and passed her the water skin, which in all the commotion had fallen on the floor. "How about I get you some tea to make up for it?"

She smiled. "I suppose that would be acceptable."

"As you wish, my lady." He bowed before exiting.

She watched him go with a smile on her face. It was impossible to be in a bad mood when Hiccup was around. That smile of his could lighten a Night Fury's scales. He could make her laugh so easily—make her forget how miserable she was. Everything was wonderful when he was around…maybe third day wasn't so stupid after all.

Her stomach suddenly clenched, and Astrid doubled over in response to the pain. Who was she kidding? Third day was _definitely_ stupid.


End file.
